Profile: Hon. Judge John J. Farley, III
Wounded Vet
Returns to New
Career and Life

(abridged version)
On June 6, 1966, Jack Farley learned what he looked like in khaki and
olive drab as a draftee. He had been working to ward his Master’s
Degree in Business Administration at Columbia University when
his draft board on Lo ng Island tried to induct him. “They were
good about it, though,” Farley says. “They let me finish school
and I ‘volunteered.’ It was what was known as an ‘encouraged
enlistment.’”

Two years later, 1st Lt. Farley found himself
halfway around the globe, owned by the Army.
Over the next nine months, few days would be
without the potential for hazard. An idyllic calm
could be shattered in an instant.

And it was on January 10, 1969.
“Charlie [the Vietcong] hit us with 82mm
mortar fire,” Farley says. A round exploded next
to him. “I remember flying through the air,” he
continues. “I crawled five feet to the parapet. A
medic peeked over and asked me if I was okay.
I remember clear as day thinking, ‘What would
John Wayne say?’”

“‘Doc,’ I told him, ‘go look after the other
men.’”

It turned out that Farley
was the only one who’d
been hit. As he wrote to his
father a few days later, it
“took five pints of blood to
get a pulse.”

Learning to Walk

Farley returned from
Vietnam with four Bronze
Star awards, three with
“V” device, the Army
Commendation Medal, a
pair of Purple Hearts, and a
shattered body. He would
spend 14 months at Walter
Reed Army Medical Center
recovering from his wounds
and learning to walk all over
again: His right leg had
been amputated above the
knee.

No, he wouldn’t be playing any more
lacrosse, the sport he had come to love
and at which he had excelled. He had
been All-Scholastic in high school and
captain of the freshman and varsity
lacrosse teams at the College of the
Holy Cross, from which he received his
undergraduate degree in economics.
At one point, as the realization began
to sink in that the parameters of what
he could do had narrowed and that he
would never run again, he became very
upset. Almost instantly, however, he
recalls a little voice telling him, “Farley,
you never could run anyway!”

Recovery had begun.

Cum Laude

Lying in his bed at Walter Reed, having
been told that he was now 100 percent
disabled, Farley knew he had to come
to terms with the altered state of
his physical self if he was to lead a
productive life. Determined not to look
back, he reasoned that he would have
more control over the course of his
life if he mastered a profession. After
retiring from the Army as a captain
in 1970, he got married, went to the
School of Law at Hofstra University, and
earned his Juris Doctorate, cum laude,
three years later. He was the founding
editor-in-chief of the Hofstra Law
Review and graduated first in his class.

He went on to a 17-year career as a
litigator with the Department of Justice,
rising to become the director of the
Torts Branch in 1980. When the United
States Court of Appeals for Veterans
Claims was created in 1989, he was
nominated by President George H. W.
Bush and confirmed by the Senate as
one of its first judges.

He has been there ever since, as the
accolades acknowledging an honorable
life continue piling up. He received
the Distinguished Alumni Medal from
his alma mater, Hofstra, in 1986. A
decade later, he was accorded the
Dean’s Award for Distinguished Hofstra
Law School Alumni. In 1997, he was
elected to the Board of Directors of the
Amputee Coalition. In 1999,
he was inducted into the Massapequa
High School Hall
of Fame. He
presently serves
on the adjunct
faculty at the
Columbus School
of Law of the
Catholic University
of America in
Washington, D.C.,
and is a member of
the inaugural Board
of Directors of the
U.S. Army Amputee
Care Program at
Walter Reed.

Sharing the Lessons
Learned

What he had seen
and done as a
soldier would not
stay neatly filed in
a side drawer of
memory, however.
So Farley, who lives
in Bowie, Maryland,
with his wife and
the youngest of
their four children,
ventures forth to
elementary and
high schools and talks to young people
about the meaning of war and the fact
that, as the Duke of Wellington said,
“The next dreadful thing to a battle lost
is a battle won.”

Farley borrows from the book General
Hal Moore wrote with Joe Galloway, We
Were Soldiers Once . . . And Young, and
tells them that while individual acts of
bravery and courage are daily events,
war is an “awful, bloody, destructive
business.” It all too often shows us the
inhumanity we humans are capable of.
He also teaches that at times war is
necessary. Yet the reason to fight must
be “vital to the society because of the
tremendous and terrible price those
who fight and those who die must pay,”
he says. Given the huge cost of war in
terms of lives, limbs, and psyches, he
urges students not to forget the human
toll of battle should they become the
decision-makers and have to decide
whether a war is necessary and wise.

An Elite Fraternity

As one who has suffered the loss of
a limb, Farley is a member of an elite
fraternity. Overcoming his disability, he
has become an avid golfer and skier.
And he assists other disabled veterans
by teaching them to ski, serving for the
past 13 years as a volunteer instructor
at the VA/DAV (Department of Veterans
Affairs/Disabled American Veterans)
Winter Sports Clinic in Snowmass,
Colorado.

A dozen years ago, while on a family
vacation in Snowmass, he noticed
“all these disabled guys skiing.” Used
to being “the only gimp on the hill,”
Farley had “stumbled” onto the third
annual Winter Sports Clinic for disabled veterans. He was invited to join the
clinic, was awarded his gold medal as
a participant, and, when he received a
letter a few months later asking if he
would like to join the clinic cadre of 180
volunteer adaptive ski instructors, he
found it hard to say no.

“I’ve taught vets from World War II
through Desert Storm, Somalia and
Bosnia,” he says. When confronted
with the reality of a traumatic disability,
“some vets react better than others.
Most people accommodate their
disability; some, though, are weighed
down by it.

“Whether sitting in a monoski
or standing on one ski and using
outriggers, you can be as fast and as
free as anybody else on the slopes,” he
says. One veteran who lost both legs
below the knee “was skiing with us the
following March and, when he returned
the following year, he was an expert.
Watching him ski, you’d never know he
was disabled. And he isn’t!”

For Jack Farley, to be an enabler of
such a life-enhancing experience “is just
an unbelievable thrill,” he says. “It’s the
highlight of my year.”

Farley served as a board member of
the Amputee Coalition from
1997 through 2004. He retired as a
judge in 2004.

—by Bernard Edelman

About the Author

Bernard Edelman, a Vietnam veteran, is
a journalist, photographer and editor. A
version of this article originally appeared
on veteransadvantage.com

SMALL PART FOR ABOVE-KNEE PROSTHESIS
MAKES A BIG DIFFERENCE

“Some of the simplest tasks were
difficult until I got a push button
rotator,” says Tal, a 27- year-old right
above-knee amputee from New
York City. A push button rotator (also
known as a turntable) is a small
component that can be installed
between the top of a prosthetic knee
and the socket. When the button is
pushed, it allows the lower leg to
swing to either side or completely
around until the sole of the prosthetic
foot faces the ceiling. Then, when
the prosthesis is brought back to its
normal position the rotator locks the
leg for walking.

With a rotator, Tal can now get
in and out of a car more easily. By
pushing the button through his
cosmetic foam cover, he is able to
swing his prosthetic leg out of the
way, as he sits down in the driver’s
seat. Since he uses a left foot gas
pedal, the rotator also allows him
to keep his prosthetic foot away
from the car’s regular gas pedal.
It can also make long car or plane
trips more comfortable by allowing
for changes in position. “I use it
everyday,” says Tal, “for getting
dressed and changing shoes.” Without this device, he would have
to take off his suction prosthesis
and reapply it. Other amputees use
the rotator for sitting on the ground or
crossing one leg over the other when
sitting on a chair.

A rotator can be built into a new
prosthesis or installed on some
existing ones. Discuss your needs
with your doctor and prosthetist
before getting your next prosthesis
and, if there is enough space, it can be
included in the design. Most insurance
companies will pay for it as long as
your doctor prescribes it. There are
three different models available and
they all function in the same way.

One problem may be length. If you
have a long residual limb, then the
addition of a rotator may cause the
prosthetic knee to extend beyond the
sound side knee when sitting down.
If this happens, then you will need
to decide if the increase in function
from the rotator is worth the change
in cosmetic appearance. A rotator
adds a small amount of weight, which
is usually not noticeable. Pushing
the button requires adequate hand
strength. Always make sure the
prosthesis is locked back into walking
position before standing up.

—by John Rheinstein, CP

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this publication are those of the authors and are not necessarily those of the Amputee Coalition, the Department of the Army, the Army Medical Department, or any other agency of the US Government.